Whitefish River We are receiving numerous reports that books have stopped working

Despite his previous affirmation that he was okay, Dragomir wasn't. Not really. He'd been lucky to stave off the after effects of adrenaline as long as he had, but being moved from the caves was enough to make his body tremble with shivers. He'd only just woken moments ago but already his eyelids were heavy and his vision swung dizzily in and out of focus. The sun was warm in the thicket, much warmer than it had been in the cave, but he felt a chill creep through him regardless. The sharp stabs of pain from his injuries didn't help matters.

So when Speedy returned and produced some tiny seeds from a pink flower with wide petals, the boy didn't hesitate. Even if Aurë hadn't approved, which she had, he lapped the seeds up obediently, groaning as it set the side of his face on fire, and struggled to swallow them all. What's those? asked Isilmë, and Dragomir listened with weakening attentiveness as Aurëwen explained. Plants for sending you to sleep. How clever...

She lifted the moss to his lips and Dragomir clumsily lapped at it thrice, but by then his tongue was starting to feel too big in his mouth and his head was drifting toward the ground and the promise of sleep was rushing up to meet him.